Thanks to Bonnie Hunt of Hilton Head Island for sharing a poem by her daughter Stacy.
Bonnie still is working with the RBC Heritage Presented by Boeing, something she has done at every Heritage tournament except the first one in 1969.
Stacy grew up on Hilton Head and now lives in the Columbia area.
"She trains horses and gives riding lessons," Bonnie writes. "Recently she has been working with a young steer who belongs to one of her clients. He wants to be able to get a saddle on this steer (Buster) and take him to rodeos. Stacy worked at Lawton Stables and at Moss Creek Stables in her early years."
Bonnie shared a poem that Stacy posted on her Facebook page when she was here.
"I think it says exactly what Hilton Head Island is," Bonnie said.
By Stacy Hunt
The South Carolina Lowcountry, where the tides tell time and the ebb
and flow are music to the soul. Where massive live oaks form great
canopies over plantation drives and Spanish moss hangs, billowing from
finger-like branches. Where warm, salt breezes whisper through palmetto
fronds. Where dolphins frolic in the surf and sea foam clings to the
shores edge. Where great Spanish galleons once sailed with the Spanish
Conquistadors in search of new lands to claim. Where some of the first
ghosts of a civil war era still roam. Where wildlife and artistic endeavors
thrive. The South Carolina Lowcountry where Indian tribes once
flourished, a place I still call home.
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